Spring
by Taka Momos
Summary: In a vicious world where gangs own the streets and the government has fallen, Haku, a poor orphan, tries to survive on his own, unsuccessfully. Zabuza, the powerful leader of a well known biker gang, saves him. Zabuza x Haku, not a oneshot if you review..
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I originally wrote this as a variation of a vignette that was part of a larger short story. All I did was tweak it some to fit Haku and Zabuza into it. Took me a few days to write because I've been really lazy, but the idea has been floating around in my head all that time. Anyways, if you like it let me know and I'll write a bit more for it. It takes _you_ to make a difference!

Yeah, corny, I know...

_**Spring**_  
by  
Tahvo

Every breath he took seemed to burn its way in and roll its way out in a wave of nausea, his body quickly reaching its already fragile breaking point. He'd been running for what felt like hours, although what in reality was mere minutes, giving everything he had to escape his pursuers. He stood no chance, however, for their motorcycles, which were quickly closing in on him. The roaring of the engines got closer and closer, until they were finally right behind him, growling at his now erratically-sputtering body that kept pushing forward.

Pain resounded through his head as one sped by, connecting the pipe to the back of his skull as it went. Haku did his best to roll to the side and escape, dashing into an alley hoping to catch them off guard. The motorcycles only followed him into it though, it wasn't narrow enough to fully escape them. He tripped over a loose piece of scrap, one of many that littered the alleyway, and fell face first into the hard dirt. His scrambling to get back up, and any hope of escape, left as he felt the boot crush into his back.

A gloved hand grabbed the back of his already ragged shirt and lifted him into the air, higher than he was tall, leaving him to dangle his feet helplessly and thrash around in vain. Even useless fighting was halted when the larger man slammed his smaller body into the stone wall, giving him and push that knocked his forehead up against the stone wall. Blood was now beginning to trickle down the side of his face.

"Thought you could get away with ripping us off? You should know better than that!"

"I didn't rip you o-AHH!", his was body slammed hard into the wall once again by the thug. He was grabbed by the shoulder and violently spun around so that he was facing his assailant, then shoved back into the wall once again, the pain from where the pipe connected amplifying as the back of his head hit the wall.

"We told you, get us the drugs or you die. You didn't get us the drugs. When it came time to die, you ran. That's ripping us off." Haku felt sick as he stared at the thugs toothy (granted, missing a few) grin.

"That's not fair!" The grin didn't even waver. "Life's not fair, kid."

That was when the filthy hand grabbed him by the face and began smashing his head into the wall. Blow after blow rippled through his body until his vision finally began to darken, his consciousness flickering in and out as the beating continued. A mangled cry escaped his throat, the last ounce of strength he had to resist leaving with it. With a final slam, his body was released and he slowly sunk to the ground, his back sliding against the grungy wall. That was when the rest of the gang joined in, kicking and beating him with whatever they had in their hands.

He was hardly lucid, his consciousness questionable, when the gunshot rang out through the dirty night air. More shots joined soon after, and he could feel the beating stop as the thugs ran away. He knew that was what was happening, one of the thugs tripped over his body on their way out of the alley. His consciousness faded momentarily, before the growling of a motorcycle engine woke him up, the roar rumbling within in his chest. Another gloved hand grabbed onto his lifeless body and lifted him up onto what felt like the seat of a bike. He tried to say something, although he wasn't entirely sure what, but it just came out as a pathetic mumble that didn't manage to even sound like intelligible words. He could barely make out angry yelling over the roar of the engine, then cheering and whooping as more engines growled and purred.

He was shifted into a better position on the seat, and an arm snaked around his waist, pulling him back into a broad chest. The engine gave a throaty roar one more time before he felt himself moving, the wind whipping his bloody hair as they sped away. He knew he should be glad he was being held onto from behind instead of the usual position, since he was sure he wouldn't have the strength to hold on. He would have just fallen to the ground like the ragdoll his body resembled. He probably couldn't have fought off a toddler, yet alone survived a bike ride.

Consciousness continued to fade in and out throughout the ride, his weight shifting into every turn and his body jolting at every bump. What had to have been more than half an hour later, although exactly how much more he wasn't sure given his compromised sense of time, the bike stopped outside what looked like some kind of club. The building, like most in the Land of Rain, was barely more than a step above what most would consider a pile of rubble. Entire chunks of the stone walls had fallen off, laying carelessly on the ground where they'd landed. Before he could eye the building over any more he was carelessly picked up and thrown over his rescuer's shoulder, his arms hanging limp. He would have considered himself dead, or at the very least comatose, had it not been for the dull pain he could feel throughout his body, even in his state of semi-consciousness.

The moonlit night sky was quickly replaced by barely-lit club air, flickering neon signs and hardly-living lightbulbs providing the little light there was as they descended into the club down the stairs at its entrance. He was slowly gaining more of his senses back as he made out the chuckling of the other riders that had been with the one who saved him close behind, laughing and sneering about loot and winning territory. The small groan he tried to let out was quickly replaced by a cringe and a wave of pain that darkened his vision. He gave up and let himself be carried to wherever he was going, knowing his efforts didn't really matter anyways.

He tried to catch a glimpse of the room at the bottom of the stairs, which turned out to be a nicely (although ruggedly) furnished club. The walls glowed from the orange neon signs that decorated them, some of which had been broken by who knows what. His half-conscious observation of the room was cut short when he was taken into another room, a darker room lit only by the light let in from the club room by the still-open door. He was at first slung carelessly over the shoulder onto a mattress, but his head was caught gently and laid carefully down, surprising him to say the least. The feeling of being in flight was enough to bring a groan out, one that hurt him enough to lose consciousness, if only momentarily. The man, who he guessed had saved him, was now glowering down at him, bandages still covering his face.

"You ok, kid?" If not for for the weak moan of confirmation he let out, the nod he attempted would have seemed like little more than a twitch. He heard rustling and tried to see into the darkness to check on what the man was doing. He moved back into his vision holding a small pill in his hand.

"Take this." Haku was sure it wasn't up for debate, but he wasn't about to take a pill without knowing what it was. And he didn't think he could even if he wanted to.

"What is it?"

"You don't need to know." He started to argue, but another wave of pain crashed down just as he got the energy to. "You'll feel better, I promise."

It was that last little statement that shattered his resolve. A slight hint of concern buried beneath layers of callousness. The man slipped the pill past his lips, and he did his best to swallow it, but chocked on the pill instead. The coughing and gagging sent pain ripping through his beaten body, until rough fingers gently massaged his throat to help the pill ease down his throat.

"Why?" The eyes just turned from the empty space they were lost in and easily stared him down. The silence that passed between them was a clear indication that he wasn't going to get an answer.

"Get some sleep." The man slowly turned and walked out of the room with heavy steps, leaving Haku alone with his thoughts. It wasn't long, though, before the pill he'd taken was obviously having an effect on him. His vision blurred, every muscle seemed to relax, and soon the feeling of sinking overtook him. Then he was out cold.

* * *

**Author's Note**: So? You like? I really don't want to leave it there, but... if no one lets me know they read it, then what am I expected to do?


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** In case you didn't notice, I changed my author name. Just so you don't get confused lol

I've gotta be honest- I honestly didn't expect the reaction I've gotten from you guys. The views are a bit on the humble side, but every email I got telling me that someone had commented or favorited or even added the story for update notifications really made me feel good.

That said, sorry it's taken me so long to update this. I've kinda been failing some stuff... so while I usually have time to write has been taken up by me scrambling to recover from the most serious case of senioritis my teachers have ever seen.

Anyways, just wanted to let you guys know that, while I knew where I was going with the story and already had the next chapter finished in my head, I had absolutely no intention of writing another chapter for this story.

You guys changed that. You should feel proud.

**Spring  
**by  
Taka Momos

The room was spinning as Haku opened his eyes, the ceiling violently flailing around as the walls danced beneath. He weakly gripped at the sheets to steady himself, but it did little good as his head rolled to the same, panic settling into his already nauseous stomach. His eyes drifted shut to escape the spinning, but instead of escaping his body felt as if it was falling down a dark, bottomless pit. He finally began whimpering as waves of nausea crashed against him.

His eyes flew open as he felt a cold rag placed on his forehead. He tried to focus his vision enough to see the face hovering above him, but it only made the spinning and sickness worse.

"W-wh-what's h-h-hap-"

"Don't talk. The pill you took makes you feel sick at first if you haven't eaten. You'll feel fine in a little while." All Haku could do was give a weak nod at the gruff voice he remembered from earlier. The cloth on his head was already making him feel better, and the mattress beneath him was far more comfortable than the dirt and concrete he'd long since become used to. He felt his muscles relax into the mattress below, not noticing the rustles beside him until a blanket enveloped his body.

A warm feeling erupted across his body as every nerve seemed to tingle at even the slightest touch. He found himself rubbing his arms against the blanket, reveling in how it sent waves of warmth throughout his body. As sleep once again rolled over him, he found himself smiling in content, mumbling thanks to the man still somewhere in the room.

* * *

He woke up what felt like months later, a soreness lingering across his entire body. The soreness, however, became a pain similar to being hit with a shotgun when he tried to sit up, forcing him to still with a painful groan. His entire body throbbed as he grasped at each and every breath. He tried his best to choke back the groans, but I only made him even more aware of the pain. The door to the room cried from its hinges as it swung open. Haku cringed through his pain to hear the approaching footsteps.

"You want another pill?" He could feel the panic stirring inside.

"N-no, please! Not again!" Silence fell upon the room as he laid writhing beneath the sheets. After more footsteps to various places in the room, the bed sank as the man sat next to him. A pill was quickly sipped between his lips, and a hand covered his mouth when he tried to spit it out.

"Take it." Too weak (even if weren't in so much pain) to fight the man, he did his best to swall the pill. It left a bitter taste from being in his mouth for so long, sending him into a bout of gagging. The man sat on the bed for a few minutes longer, making no sound or movement, before walking out of the room, leaving Haku in pain; to wait for the dizziness from before to assault him once again.

After waiting a few minutes, however, the dizziness still hadn't hit him. The door opened again- the man was back.

"Why?" His voice hoarsely ground the question out, expecting pain to crash him, but it was only a dull ache that throbbed beneath a numbness he couldn't explain.

"You're feeling better." Haku wasn't sure if it was a question or statement, so he settled for dumbly nodding his head. Or maybe it was the warm feeling the deep, rough voice left him with.

"The pills worked." It was another statement that seemed blatantly obvious, yet felt like he was being told for the first time. Again, he nodded dumbly, but this time choked up the courage to speak.

"Why am I not sick?" The man gave a guarded look as if he'd asked something wrong, making Haku quickly look away.

"... different pills. They're just painkillers." A silence swelled between the two as Haku found he had nothing to say. He tried to say something clever, but found himself giving an awkward giggle as his comment died upon arrival.

"I guess you're a walking pharmacy, huh?" His breathing stopped as the man's glare slamming him when he made eye contact. Instead of relaxing back into the semi-serious look his face had before, Haku could tell the man was all-business now.

"What's your name?"

"H-haku..." His breaths were still shaky from the man's sudden change in mood; fear had almost completely hijacked his body as the man sat on the bed with an unwavering, expressionless face.

"What'd you do to piss those guys off so bad?" His face, even though filled with fear, fell into a frown. What _had_ he done? He didn't even know he needed a reason to get beatings like that, he'd just gotten used to getting beaten throughout his life. Looking back to the man, who was still clearly waiting for an answer, he weakly offered a shrug. Another silence feel between the two.

"So what are you good for?" The question caught him off guard, reeling him into a whirl of thought and memories. _What __was__ he good for? He had no money, no home, no friends, no family, barely even any clothes, and those definitely weren't anything to brag about. Or maybe he didn't mean it like that, maybe he meant -_

"Come on, kid, you gotta give me a reason to justify keepin' you around." Even with clarification, he couldn't think of a reason.

"I-I can learn how to cook and clean and stuff..." The man was clearly unimpressed

"Yeah, like we really need a maid around this place. Look, I..." The man closed his eyes and heaved a sigh, completely lost in thought. Haku knew what would happen- he had no use, and they'd put him back out on the streets. He doubted he'd survive it, not in the condition he was in... the man finally opened his eyes and gave him a very firm look.

"You willin' to help me out with whatever I can think of for you to do?"

"Anything!" He clenched his eyes in pain, having forgotten that sudden movements were, in general, a very bad idea. The man just seemed to look at him, nodding; taking in everything h ewas, almost as if he were looking at what he _could_ be.

"Fine then, I guess I can find enough shit for you to do around here." He got up and was heading for the door before Haku stopped him.

"Wait! ... w-what's your name?" The man looked him over one more time before answering.

"Zabuza."

He walked out the door, closing it gently behind him, leaving Haku alone with his thoughts.

"Zabuza..." He liked the way it felt on his tongue. He fell asleep minutes later, glad to have a warm bed to sleep in, decent food to eat, and protection.

Thinking about his protection made him feel particularly happy.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So? Did I do it justice? Was the wait worth it? Comment as good as you did last time and the next chapter should be up soon. I have a few other story ideas floating around in my head, and I have a research paper to write over the next two days...

This is good news. The entire problem with me writing is that, while I want to write, getting started is 99% of the battle. The fact that I'll be writing already means that I'll be more likely to write stories when I'm taking breaks.

I'm thinking of an AkuRoku story, a SasuNaru I've had half-written for a few months now, and (obviously) this one.

So do as good as you did last time and there should be a flurry of updates over the next few days or weeks!


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I know that this update is a long time in coming, but... okay, well, there's no excusing me not writing this chapter sooner.

I really hope you guys are still willing to read on. To make up for it, this story is over twice as long as both of the other chapter's combined. Plus, it leaves me in a good place to keep going.

So? Review and let me know that you guys are still out there. I really hope I didn't wait so long to write it that the fan base died...

Oh, and I might have skimped on the proofreading some... just a little. I'll do it tomorrow, when I don't have class in 7 hours. Just let me know if you catch any that are absolutely devastating to your ability to read the story. The minor stuff I'll fix later. Thanks in advance!

**Spring  
**by  
Taka Momos

Haku woke to the sounds of explosions, dulled by the thick concrete walls. Adrenaline surged as he tried to find his orientation in the dark room. Gunshots and the roaring of motorcycle engines soon followed, shouts fading into the distance.

The door opened, light slipping inside the darkened room, as a bleeding Zabuza casually walked in.

"What's happening? A-are you okay!? Wh – uhh..." his thoughts of panic collapsed into a jumbled mess as the dizziness from standing so suddenly took its toll. Zabuza smirked as he watched the smaller figure stagger, taking steps forward to brace a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to help stabilize him.

"Turf war, some assholes threw a few grenades down the stairs – we're fine. We sent a few people after them. You feelin' good enough to help us clean up?" Haku nodded as he found his legs, taking a catalog of what parts of his body still screamed in agony – his head was throbbing, his arms ached in a dull pain, and his left leg caused him to limp. He slowly made his into the other room, using Zabuza to lean against when he needed to.

"What do you need me to do?" As he walked out the doorway, Haku looked around the room illuminated by the glow of orange, neon signs. Shattered glass littered the floor, though, other than an area near the stairwell he remembered as the entrance that was charred and showed signs of cracks in the concrete, the club seemed to be relatively in tact.

"You're just gonna be dressing wounds, nothin' too big. You'll get to meet a few of the guys. I don't want you getting' too friendly with most of 'em, but there's a few you can trust. You'll know who they are." Haku nodded, wondering how dangerous the others must be.

Grumbling, dirty men entered the room, all with minor scrapes and bruises – none of which seemed life-threatening. Zabuza put a firm hand on his shoulder, stopped him, as he reached over his head for a small, beaten box with small, brown spots that looked to be faded bloodstains. Zabuza once again eased him forward towards a large, muscular man, easily three times his own size, before setting the box down and opening it up.

"Alright, here's what you do." He picked up a roll of bandaging and a bottle. "You're just doing cuts. If it's still bleeding, don't worry about it. There might be some dirt and stuff still in it. Just pour this stuff on it," as he poured the bubbling liquid over the cut, making the man flinch, "and wrap it a few times. It's simple." Zabuza demonstrated wrapping before handing him the roll.

"So I just walk up to hurt people and ask them if they want me to do it? Or...?" Zabuza thought for a moment before clearing his throat and shouting to the men in the room.

"Listen up! This is Haku, he's cleanin' the small stuff. The rest of you go to Doc to get checked!" Haku tried to hide his embarrassment as the entire room stopped to look at him. Zabuza noticed his discomfort, though decided to busy himself with other things – knowing that he was incapable at dealing with weakness, particularly in a way that would make the situation easier on the young teen.

The first to walk up to Haku was a large man, well-built with large muscles on his torso. His skin was the sickliest color he'd ever seen – an odd shade of pale, light blue. The man smiled, baring a set of sharply pointed teeth. Long, thing, almost pointed fingers protruded from the hand that stretched out before him.

"Nice to meet ya, name's Kisame." Haku offered his own shaky, sweaty hand, weakly meeting the man's shake.

"That's a limp-dick handshake ya got, kid." Haku's muscles seized in fear as the man once again barred his teeth in a wicked smile. He stuttered, unsure what to say. "Y-yeah... what do I need to clean?" Kisame leaned down and jerked the left leg of his pants up, exposing a deep cut in the fleshy part of his calf.

"Just a scrape, nothin' much." Haku stared at the wound – still oozing crimson from beneath the cracks of dried blood and dirt.

"Zabuza told me to only clean small wounds. That looks kind of serious..." Kisame just waved it off. "I've gotten paper cuts worse than this." Haku stared at him for a moment longer before pouring the liquid into the cut. Kisame grunted as the bubbling hissed loudly. Haku was careful about wrapping the injured leg, wanting to make sure it was done exactly the same way Zabuza had done it. He wrapped it tightly, making sure that the entire wound was covered, before securing it by tucking it underneath itself and tying it off firmly.

"Thanks kid, owe ya one." Kisame began to walk away, but stopped and, after a moment, bent down to whisper into Haku's ear. "If any dumbasses give you trouble, come find me. I'll deal with them." Haku stared into the larger man's eyes, searching for any sign of insincerity, before nodding. Kisame flashed one last smile before heading back up the stairs, leaving Haku to wonder just how dangerous some of the others must be that he'd need to be warned twice.

* * *

The rest of the time spent cleaning and bandaging was, for the most part, uneventful. Haku gladly resigned to the awkward silence most of the men who came up to him regarded him with – from what he could gather from their personalities, Zabuza and Kisame's warnings were slightly understated.

Many of the men had a look in their eyes – an anger, indiscriminate of to whom it was directed, hardened by years of street-life. Their eyes, clouded with such an anger, looked like stone – dirtied windows into souls numbed by drugs and hatred. From the many scars Haku could see on the flesh exposed to them, most, if not all, of the men around him were by no means new to violence.

Though, he could say that about himself. If he took the time to think about, the only difference between himself and these men was their response to the violence around them. While they searched for strength, a way to defend themselves by becoming as deadly as the dangers they faced, Haku had grown up blending in – hiding within the ruins of the the abandoned buildings, scavenging food anywhere he could find it. Where the men around him stole their food from others, Haku hunted rats and other vermin, ate insects if he was hungry enough. While the men around him killed for water, Haku settled for anything he could find – be it dirty puddles, stagnate pools in the sewers, or, if he were lucky, water running in rivers on the ground during rainstorms. If he had a bucket, or other such tool, around him in one of his many hiding places, he could collect the water while it was raining and have enough for possibly a week.

He oftentimes wondered, though, why the different responses were so extreme. Sure, he was weak – he'd spent a large portion of his life an orphan. His entire teen years, and most of his childhood. Only in his infancy did he have parents. But he didn't think about them.

Haku tied off the bandage of the man he was treating. The man flashed him an odd look – something alike to curiosity, fascination, or even lust. It was a look he'd seen before. The man's chuckle as he walk away wordlessly sent a violent shiver down his spine, turned his stomach. Gang members always did drugs – there were no exceptions. Painkillers for their wounds, or narcotics to increase the sensations of war, to fuel the brutality they got off on. That look was the look of a man who'd become a slave to their drug-driven violence. They were the men he feared most. While most thugs, especially leaders, resembled businessmen in their methods and logic, the lowly members who had fried their brains with drugs were dangerous because of their lack of logic and thirst for violence of the most heinous of ways.

They were men who could could achieve sexual satisfaction not by the act of rape, but by the slow, cruel, bloody murders of their victims. They could almost replicate the high of any drug by the torture they loved. The screams of their victims were far better than any orgasm. He'd only once made the mistake of wandering too close to a "crackhouse" – the term given to the hideout of gangs that were made up of nothing but these junkies. Their victims, or at least what was left of them, were displayed all around. Limbless, headless bodies hung from streelights by chains, the ground had an eerie glow of red – so much blood having stained the pavement that it would never be rid of its worn, grayish-red color. Limbs were strewn all over the area. Bodies were even positioned in sexual displays – objects inserted into the body, either anally or used to decorate gashes in the flesh, were on some of the victims. Others were impaled on stakes sticking out of the ground. Even still, others were clearly used for gratification – legs spread, tears in the flesh and cum stains evidence of their use. He could still remember the stench of death; it still brought up bile from his stomach.

He'd been lucky to escape. The screams of one of their victims rang loud in the air – sending him running as fast as he could. Where there was one of the junkies, there were others nearby.

A flash of blue skin brought Haku back to the present – out of his nightmares that had become dulled by time and exposure. He had to shake off the lingering sense of fear that gripped him whenever certain memories of his experiences clawed their way back into his memory. Kisame was dragging a long-haired raven behind him, the other clearly unwilling to follow him. While the struggle wasn't physical, Haku could tell the man wasn't happy to be manhandled. Even while being dragged forcefully, he had an air of grace and poise about him. Kisame walked towards him, grabbing for the first-aid kit. The raven began to speak, but Kisame silenced him quickly.

"Haku, this is Itachi. Itachi – Haku." Haku nodded his greeting, meeting the other's eyes. His eyes were hard – harder than most. And yet, they lacked the same lifelessness he saw in most. Where other eyes were made of stone, his were still made of glass – clear and full of color. Though his angry expression remained.

"Hey Haku, mind if I borrow that chair?" Nodding, Haku stood. He was surprised to see Kisame violently push Itachi down into it, kneeling down before the now-sitting man with a pair of tweezers in his hand. Itachi sat quietly, his expression far more livid than the usual anger his demeanor suggested he frequently displayed.

"Dumbass, goin' 'nd gettin' your hand cut up..." He heard Kisame mutter, the kindness he'd seen before struggling to stay afloat in the ocean of anger the man was clearly feeling.

"Would you prefer to be picking the glass out of my face? Because if that's what you want, I'll gladly go back and ask the man to try again. I'm sure he'll succeed if I keep myself from stopping him like you suggest." Haku couldn't understand Kisame's reaction to the deadpanned sarcasm – a lightning-like anger flashed in his eyes as he looked up, though Haku could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Can I help?" Haku asked. As amusing as he found the exchange, he still disliked conflict. It amazed him – even despite a lifetime of abuse, fighting rats for food in the dirty floor of a crumbling building, after a lifetime of being numbed by the most gruesome of sights and treatment by thugs, drug dealers, and con artists, he was still bothered by conflict.

"No, I'll be cleaning this. I'd just about fight you for the honor." The pale man flashed a toothy grin, before quickly grabbing for the bottle Haku had placed on the table by the chair. Itachi struggled, attempting to force his way out of the chair, but Kisame forced his back by twisting the hand he held firmly. Stilled by the pressure on his wrist, he grunted as the liquid was poured over his hand. Kisame grinned wickedly, seeming to enjoy the pain Itachi was in. Itachi struggled to retain his grace, though his clenched jaw and knuckles white from their grip on the side of the chair. Wiping the hand off with his shirt, Kisame began wrapping it in bandages, smile still plastered on his face.

"It's funny, ya know. Everyone thinks my little 'tachi's this big bad sadist – "

"Shut up."

"But in reality he's just a masochist who likes to inflict his own kinks on others..."

"Shut up."

"Admit it. As much as you're willing to hurt others, when it comes right down to it you _love_ it when you're gettin' choked or whipped or spanked while gettin' drilled up your ass." Itachi's uninjured hand shot out, grabbing the other man's hair, wrenching his head back to look up into his eyes.

"Shut. Up." Kisame's smile never wavered, and, after a moment of silence, he began to chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah. Remind me to replace that stick up your ass with my – " A knee connected firmly with the loose jaw, snapping it shut with a loud pop, as Itachi stood. Haku sat, awkwardness tightening his nerves, silent from the conversation that had quickly turned far more erotic than he'd expected. Kisame once again chuckled as he stood, his casual nature returning as he looked Haku in the eyes.

"That's Itachi. Don't mind him, he's like that with everyone. If anyone bugs you and you can't find me or Zabuza, you can go to him too. Don't mind that ass-face he gets – no matter how stuck up he may seem, he'll still watch out for you. He'll act like he doesn't care, but deep down he's a just a nice guy." Haku nodded, unsure if he should ask the question circling in his head. Kisame quickly picked up on this.

"What?" Haku shook his head furiously, but the confused, pressing expression on Kisame's face urged him on.

"It just... I didn't know you were... g-gay." Haku kept his eyes locked firmly on the floor, but shot up in surprise when Kisame's laughter exploded close to his face.

"Nawww! I ain't gay. I just – "

"Will fuck anything he can fit his cock in." Zabuza's voice came from behind the large man. Kisame turned around, teeth barred as he grinned. Haku picked up a sense of pride run across the shark's face.

"And Itachi's just fucked up. He'd bang a girl as fast as anyone else if it weren't for his twisted sense of pride. But then he turns around and likes it when Kisame works him over. Guy's got some serious control issues." Haku settled for nodding, unsure of what to say. Zabuza was more social than he'd expected. He and Kisame began a conversation, while Haku let himself drift back to sitting in the chair, head buried in his hands. He jolted when a hand gripped his shoulder.

"Come on." Zabuza was kneeling in front of him, offering his back for Haku to climb on. Unsure, Haku wrapped his arms around the muscular neck, feeling a sense of weightlessness as strong arms wrapped his legs around the strong torso and held them firmly in place, before he was lifted into the air. It wasn't until his world spun from the change in altitude that he realized how tired he had become. Zabuza carried him back into the room he'd slept in the days before, walking them both over straight to the bed before gently lowering Haku onto the mattress.

"You're still recovering, so if you feel weak then come in here and lay down."

"I'm sorry," Haku said as he cast his eyes down, "but I really wasn't feeling too tired! And I just wanted to help." Zabuza curled a finger under Haku's chin, lifting his head up to meet his own eyes. He searched Haku's face, before gently pushing on his chest until he reclined back on the mattress.

"Get some sleep." He began to turn and walk away, but Haku flung his hand out blindly, a strangled cry straining from his throat as his grip found only empty air.

"W-wait!" The heavy steps stopped. He looked up to see Zabuza staring at him blandly, only the smallest trace of confusion in his features. Haku felt a burning heat erupt across his cheeks, sending waves of sickness throughout his body as the heat met the chills of fear as he thought about being alone in a club with some of the men he'd seen. He couldn't shake a certain fear tugging at his chest when he thought about the bodies he'd seen, mutilated by the hedonistic addicts he had come to fear from his life alone on the streets.

His mind screamed for him to say that simple word. _Stay_. He tried, but all he could manage was a throaty groan as the syllable caught in his throat. Relief flooded into his body when Zabuza seemed to understand, walking back towards him. He stopped, and Haku could see him thinking the situation over. Finally, Zabuza let out a deep sigh.

"Move over. I got shit to do tomorrow, and I'm not gonna do it with my muscles sore cause I slept on a concrete floor all night." Haku nodded, unable to hide the excitement of such a weight being lifted off of his shoulders. He shifted on the bed as Zabuza walked towards the door, shutting it while flipping a switch – turning on an orange, neon sign hanging on the wall. The shape was a symbol he'd never seen before.

The mattress was suddenly much smaller as he pressed against the hard wall, allowing room for them both. He looked over to check the amount of room Zabuza would have to catch the man working the button of his jeans. The zipper growled, before he began working the pants down his thighs. Zabuza sat, kicking off his jeans and leaving them on the floor. Blood once again pooled in Haku's cheeks as he watched Zabuza lift his shirt above his head – firm muscles all across his back rippling as more and more skin became exposed. He could feel his breathing become heated and shallow as he stared at the sculpted shoulder blades – then the rounded, shoulders as his entire back became exposed. He quickly turned around and buried his head in his arms before he was caught staring.

The sound of the shirt joining the pants in a pile of clothes on the ground was the last sound heard, before he could feel the heat of the man's back against his own as they lay close to each other. Haku's hormones raced faster the more he tried to calm himself – a part of him longed to turn around and bury himself into muscles of the man who'd offered him a rare sense of security in his life.

After what seemed like an eternity, he heard the man's breathing even out into a gentle rhythm. He did his best to fight his urges, but finally gave in. He turned over, and gently leaned closer – until finally he felt his forehead connect with the hard muscle of the back he'd been admiring.

It wasn't all that he wanted, but it would be enough – discrete enough as well – to find him sleep.

Some time during the night, Haku woke from an unnerving dream that must have had him turning in his sleep. Images of the bodies he'd long-since learned to take as signs of nearby danger filled his sleep – and, yet, it wasn't a nightmare. The countless times he'd had similar dreams, he'd woken in a cold sweat, panting and scrambling to vomit somewhere away from whatever he was using as a bed. But this time – there wasn't fear so much as... discomfort.

As he regained more of his senses, he realized he was surrounded by warmth – a blazing heat burning against his back, encircling his waist, ghosting the shell of his ear. He pressed back, meeting what he immediately recognized as the muscles of a strong, well-toned chest. The orange glow of the light eased him out of the panic he'd ordinarily experience, reminding him of where he was.

And, more importantly, who was holding him against their half-naked body.

His mind was sounding all sorts of alarms about the situation, but his body begged for – revelled in – the attention it was getting. The soft puffs of warm breath against his scalp, as well as the feeling of strong arms holding him in their loose embrace, lulled him back into a comfortable sleep – something he'd rarely experienced in his life.

An unfamiliar warmth swelled in his chest – his body almost rejecting it. It wasn't nausea, pain, or suffocation.

He'd heard about it before, but never experienced.

It was... happiness.

**Author's Note:** Again – I'm really sorry, and I hope this chapter made up for the wait you guys had to endure.

Please review, I'd love to know what you think about the story. Or even the casual comment about enjoying it or not liking it or whatever is fine. Reviews let me know you guys are out there, and I'll take even a simple "Hi" over silence!


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Sorry it's been so long! I tried to make this chapter extra-special to make up for it.

Be nice and review? =)

* * *

**Spring  
**by  
Taka Momos

"_Thought you could get away with ripping us off? You should know better than that!"_

"_I didn't rip you o-AHH!", his was body slammed hard into the wall once again by the thug. He was grabbed by the shoulder and violently spun around so that he was facing his assailant, then shoved back into the wall once again, the pain from where the pipe connected amplifying as the back of his head hit the wall._

"_We told you, get us the drugs or you die. You didn't get us the drugs. When it came time to die, you ran. That's ripping us off." Haku felt sick as he stared at the thugs toothy (granted, missing a few) grin._

"_That's not fair!" The grin didn't even waver. "Life's not fair, kid."_

_That was when the filthy hand grabbed him by the face and began smashing his head into the wall. Blow after blow rippled through his body until his vision finally began to darken, his consciousness flickering in and out as the beating continued. A mangled cry escaped his throat, the last ounce of strength he had to resist leaving with it. With a final slam, his body was released and he slowly sunk to the ground, his back sliding against the grungy wall. That was when the rest of the gang joined in, kicking and beating him with whatever they had in their hands._

A voice calling his name in the distance pulled him into darkness. He could feel his body being shaken – he opened his eyes to the dark room, only a small light casting over the worried face looking down at him.

"Kid?" Haku sat up, rubbing his eyes. His body was still trembling from the dream, a cold sweat making his clothes feel clammy. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. The eyes stayed set on him. He gave a weak smile.

"I'm alright... just a bad dream." Suddenly, his heart fluttered as a hand reached up and gently rubbed his cheek. He leaned into the gentle touch, sighing softly. The hand dropped down to his shoulders, and pulled him down. He leaned into the hard chest, pressing his forehead where he could feel the heart beating. The hand began gently rubbing the base of his neck, bringing soft mewls of pleasure from his throat. His mind quickly turned to mush beneath the massaging fingers – his body relaxed completely, sleep sweeping over him.

But, in the fading moments of consciousness, Haku was sure of what he felt – soft lips pressing against the crown of his head, warm breath sending heated puffs across his scalp.

The sensations sent him over the edge, into a comfortable sleep.

LINE

The whine of the door hinges dragged him back to consciousness, though he stayed still to feign sleep. Footsteps came closer, and the chest he was pressed to shook, someone shaking the man's shoulder to wake him.

"What?" he grunted harshly, sending shivers down Haku's spine as the throaty growl vibrated the hard chest.

"Just checking on you. Usually you're out there getting ready for the raid." Kisame kept his voice quiet, concern coloring the voice Haku remembered as carefree. A hand came up to gently run through Haku's hair, before the chest turned slightly, Zabuza looking at Kisame over his shoulder.

"Kid had a bad night. I was up every few hours trying to calm him down. I only had to wake him up once, but still... neither of us slept well. Just... go make sure my bike's checked out, and my gun's clean and loaded. I'll be up in a few hours." Haku couldn't tell, but Kisame probably nodded – silence hung in the air momentarily.

"Anything I can do? You know, for him?" The hand cradled the back of Haku's head, leaning it into the hard chest – a chin gently came to rest on the crown of his head. Zabuza was quiet, before taking a deep breath and letting out a deep, tired sigh.

"Just help me with him, Kisame. Because I don't have a fucking clue what I'm doing." Zabuza's voice lacked the confidence and strength Haku associated with him – it was tired, strained... nervous. Fingers began running through his hair; back and forth, massaging the back of his head. After a moment, the door closed, and darkness flooded the room. Haku unconsciously pressed into Zabuza's chest as the thumb suddenly strayed over a spot that sent a wave of pleasure down his spine. His breathing quickened as the thumb began to attack the sensitive spot, then suddenly pulling away slightly to ghost light touched over it in a cruel tease. His head foggy in pleasure, Haku groaned – a silent demand for more. The hand suddenly pulled away.

Haku looked up, eyes cloudy from sleep and the sensations of pleasure from the fingers' treatment, to meet Zabuza's analyzing gaze – as if he'd just encountered some alien creature. Haku smiled gently, before burying his head into the chest one again.

"Don't stop. Feels good." he muttered. The hand hovered slightly, before gently dragging the fingers down his neck, drawing random patterns along his shoulders.

"I'm going out later." The meaning of the words were almost lost to Haku as the vibrations in the chest sent a current of pleasure through him.

"Where?"

"Just another gang's hideout in the city. They have some things we want."

"Can I come?"

"No." The finality of the tone was like a punch to Haku's gut. Zabuza seemed to realize the impact, and added, "I don't want you getting hurt. You need to rest today." The hand found a spot on Haku's neck that had any thoughts of disagreement forgotten. He was puddy; heat waves rushing through him, nerves exploding. Then, suddenly, it was gone. The body next to him shifted, sitting up.

"I need a shower." The word almost seemed foreign to him – it had been so long since he'd been somewhere he could actually clean himself. He began to ask if he could take one as well, but lost the words when he noticed the well-muscled back flexing as the man stretched – rubbing his shoulders, muscles rippling. Heat spread across his cheeks when Zabuza looked back and caught him staring.

"C-can I come?" Zabuza watched him carefully, then finally grunted in affirmation before walking out of the room. Haku scrambled off the mattress and followed him around the corner.

The shower room, much like the bathroom it extended off of through a doorway, was impressive despite its mediocrity. Simple shower heads, most of which Haku assumed worked, lined three of the four walls. The walls showed visible signs of damage – chips, cracks, even a large hole. But it was still one of the most impressive rooms he'd ever seen. Given the state of wasteland on the other side of the walls, a room with something as impressive as working showers, with _hot_ water, given the steam still fogging the mirrors from earlier use, was nothing short of a testimony to the gang's notoriety.

Watching Zabuza remove his boots, he almost began to head into the showers, before realizing that Zabuza wasn't done. His stomach suddenly turned, heat racing to his face, as he realized that he'd need to take off his clothes to shower. Zabuza was working on his pants, and self-consciousness suddenly slammed Haku's nerves. A violent shiver ran through as the man's pants fell to his ankles. Haku couldn't look away – he found his vision locked on the man's well toned thighs, muscled ass... as he began to turn around, Haku finally broke his gaze and his eyes shot to the corner of the room. Zabuza didn't seem to understand at first, but a hard, nervous swallow finally made him realize Haku's discomfort. A deep chuckle rumbled in this throat.

"What, do I look that bad?" Haku shook his head weakly, head still turned. "Come on, we're both guys. Let me help you with your shirt." Haku took a deep breath lifting his arms. The shirt quickly slid off his body and over his head. Zabuza began folding it and putting it on the floor next to his own boots and pants. The boxers he'd only given half a thought to until now were his only clothing. As Zabuza began into the room, Haku quickly slid the boxers off his waist, kicking into the corner and followed the man. Zabuza walked up to a shower head and turned the handle, grunting as steaming water slammed into him. Haku stood back, unsure.

"C'mon, kid. We can share a head. I don't wanna waste the water." Haku nodded quietly, walking up next to him. The hot water burned him at first, but he quickly pushed aside the pain and began to wash off the dirt and grime that coated his body. After his arms, he worked on his legs, and began upwards. By the time he was working on his chest, the steam had drained his energy. He felt dizzy, panting for air. Working on his shoulder, he bumped his arm against Zabuza. A quick glance turned into a fixed gaze as he finally saw Zabuza's impressive length. It was limp, but still bigger than Haku had ever seen. His body temperature seemed to soar as he began to imagine it hard.

"Like what you see?" Haku was shocked out of his trance by the deep voice, almost a growl. He suddenly realized the hardness between his own legs, and looked away, shame burning in his stomach.

"Sorry." he managed, the heat beginning to wear him out.

"Nothin' to be sorry for, kid. It happens." Zabuza went back enjoying the shower. Suddenly, the room went dark, and Haku felt like he was flying. It wasn't until he heard a squeak – until he felt arms wrapping around him, a hard body slamming into his chest – that he realized he'd passed out.

As they hit the ground, Zabuza let out a harsh grunt. The room spun as Haku opened his eyes. His head rolled weakly on Zabuza's body, his hair clinging to the muscles underneath him. The two lay there, Haku panting harshly.

"Shit. Tell me next time, got it?" Haku nodded as the body slipped out from underneath him, laying him gently on the tile flooring. The water shut off, and Zabuza walked out, leaving him. The thought of Zabuza not returning came with a shiver from the cold air, but bare feet padding towards him put his mind at ease. A strong hand gently slipped underneath him, pulling him into a sitting position. He felt himself being pressed against a shoulder, and he instinctively lifted his arms, still weak, and wrapped them around the neck, still wet. As he felt himself being lifted, a towel was wrapped around his waist, he moaned lightly, wrapping his legs around Zabuza's waist.

Closing his eyes, he was vaguely aware that they were moving. He wrapped himself around the body tighter, searching for warmth, as the cold air around him cut into his back. A door whining as it opened brought him back, and he found himself being lowered on his back, onto the bed. When Zabuza tried to stand, however, Haku hugged his neck even tighter. The unexpected weight brought Zabuza forward – he just barely caught himself in time before crushing the small body beneath him. Naked, panting, the two stared at each other.

"Haku –"

"Please." His voice was desperate – a whine that made Zabuza's blood boil. All thought was drowned out by a roaring in his ears. But he shook his head, and forced himself to stop.

"We can't do this." Trying to stand, he found that the arms held firm.

"Why?"

"I'm too old for you!" Haku gave him a disarming smile.

"I'm nineteen."

"There's no way in hell you're –"

"I'm older than I look. I'm old enough to know that I want to be close to you. As close as I can be. No one's ever given me so much in my entire life."

"Haku..."

"Please! I can't go back out there! Not after having this! I've never had this much in my entire life! I can't wait that long to find something like this! Please, Zabuza! I'll do anything you want me to do, just please don't take this away from me!" Zabuza rolled over, pulling Haku against his chest. Haku's entire body was shaking; his face was drenched in tears, on fire from panting and gasping for air.

Suddenly, before Haku knew what was happening, a finger slipped under his chin and leaned his head back. His eyes, still blurry from his tears, looked up into Zabuza's eyes, which were studying him closely. Then, lips were on his. It was gentle at first – awkward. But when Zabuza's tongue ran across his lip and he opened his mouth, it turned into a heated, desperate attack. The warm tongue tangled with his own; dancing between aggressive wrestling and gentle caressing. Haku pushed aside the growing need for air, until finally it became too much. They parted, a small string of liquid connecting their tongues. They stared at each other, silent.

Zabuza suddenly stood, this time finding no resistance from Haku's arms – which fell limp onto the bed. He crossed the room, digging into the worn, wooden dresser.

"Zabuza?" The man was silent. Haku stood quickly, terrified. He grabbed onto Zabuza's arm, stopping his search for clothes. "Zabuza, I'm sorry!"

The body stilled. Finally, he let out a deep breath.

"Is it really what you want?" A harsh glare cut off his immediate answer, still hanging on his tongue. He stared into the cold eyes, thinking carefully.

"Yes." Zabuza nodded quietly, not moving. He continued his search through the dresser. He pulled out a pair of pants, gloves, bracers for his arms, and a pistol. To Haku's surprise, Zabuza held the pistol out for Haku to take. Unsure, he wrapped his hand around the grip, grabbing it with his other hand when it was released – he had never held a gun, and the weight was more than he'd expected.

"That's yours. I don't expect you to ever need it. But if anything's going to happen between us, I want you to be safe." Haku nodded, his heart begin to flutter.

"You mean...?" Zabuza grabbed the back of his head and slammed their lips together. Haku was quick to give in to the kiss. It was short, and before he knew it Zabuza had pulled away. The man stood to put on his clothes, throwing a large shirt towards Haku.

"I'm not at all sure about this. I'm not even sure it just hasn't been too long since I've gotten laid. So don't flatter yourself, thinking you've got me around your finger or any shit like that. I'm doing you a favor." Haku didn't even begin to feel insulted by the comments. He knew they were true. Pulling the shirt over his head, he walked up to Zabuza, who was busy preparing the holster for his sword. He wrapped his arms the man.

"Thank you." Zabuza stopped what he was doing. Finally, an arm wrapped around Haku, and a hand gently rubbed the spot on his neck that it had found earlier. He leaned into Zabuza to keep his balance. He let out a whine when it stopped, begging for more. But Zabuza only pressed him towards the bed.

"I have to go. Stay in this room. Don't open the door, don't go get water, don't use the bathroom. I'll be back." Haku nodded, expecting him to leave, but instead found a hand pressing backwards onto the mattress. On his back, he looked up to find Zabuza staring down at him. Lips pressed against his forehead to give a gentle kiss.

"Get some sleep." Zabuza whispered in his ear. Haku nodded lazily, the warmth of Zabuza's breath fogging his head. He closed his eyes, listening to door close. He pressed into the mattress, smelling Zabuza. The scent eased him into a comfortable sleep.

LINE

When he was woken by the sounds of cheering and yelling, he felt more tired than he expected to be. Sitting up, rubbing at his eyes, he listened to the men outside the door – stomping, jeering, glass shattering. The sounds of destruction surprised him, but he brushed it off as the gang being excited about a successful doorknob turned and jiggled, locked. Haku smiled at the thought of Zabuza forgetting he'd left it locked. He sat up, waiting to greet the man.

Suddenly, the door flew open with a loud crack – kicked open.

He locked eyes with a familiar face.

Grinning.

"_Life's not fair, kid."_

"Well, now! Look what I found!" Haku was unable to move, frozen in terror. As the man moved towards him, he backed against the wall. But then, remembering the gun, he dove off the mattress onto the floor, searching for the weapon he'd lost during the second kiss.

But a hand grabbed the back of his shirt before he could find it, pulling him off the ground and into the air. He landed hard, twisting his ankle. Temporarily blinded by the pain, it was easy for the large man to capture him.

"You still owe us, kid. And since you ran, now there's interest." Haku tried to fight back, but his arms were grabbed and held in a single hand. "We're gonna have some real fun with you."

His arms were released, but he was unable to escape. In a swift move, the man had him turned around – an arm wrapped around his throat. It tightened, squeezing him tight. The man suddenly lifted his arm slowly – all Haku could do was grab onto the arm and gasp for air. Kicking out at the air, his vision began to flicker. His kicks weakening, his grip on the arm loosening, a sick laughter roared in his ear.

Falling into darkness, the last thing Haku managed was a single, choked word –

"Zabuza."


End file.
